)  _.ri   i 


.ONGFEtLOW. 


THE 


HANGING  OP  THE  CEANE 


HENRY   WADSWORTH    LONGFELLOW 


El  lustrations 


BOSTON 
JAMES    R.    OSGOOD    AND    COMPANY 

LATE  TICKNOR  &  FIELDS,  AND  FIELDS,  OSGOOD,  &  Co. 

1870 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1874, 

BY    IIEN11Y    WADSWOHTEI   LONGFELLOW, 
in  the  Office  of  the.  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


IN  MCMORUM 

X    \\C,v 


\r  \4 
1 


UNIVERSITY  PRESS:  WELCH,  BIGELOW,  &  Co. 
CAMBRIDGE. 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


ENGRAVED  BY  A.  V.  S.  ANTHONY  AND  W.  J.  LINTON. 


THE  GOLDEN  WEDDING 

"  The  lights  are  out,  and  gone  are  all  the  guests, 
That  thronging  came  with  merriment  and  jests  " 

"Like  a  new  star  just  sprung  to  birth" 

"  And  now  I  sit  and  muse  on  what  may  be " 

"  They  want  no  guests ;  they  needs  must  be 
Each  other's  own  best  company  " 

"The  picture  fades;  as  at  a  village  fair 
A  showman's  views  dissolving  into  air" 

"A  royal  guest  with  flaxen  hair, 
"Who,  throned  upon  his  lofty  chair" 

'''  As  one  who  walking  in  a  forest  sees 
A  lovely  landscape  through  the  parted  trees  " 

';A  Princess  from  the  Fairy  Tales, 
The  very  pattern  girl  of  girls  " 


ARTIST.  PAGE. 

MARY  A.  HALLOCK.     Front. 


7 

9 

11 

13 
17 
19 


THOMAS  MOKAN 


MARY  A.  HALLOCK 


25 


27 


926478 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS. 


ARTIST.  PAGE. 

"  Planets  that  emerge 
Above  the  ocean's  rounded  verge "  THOMAS  MORAN  29 

:  Again  the  tossing  boughs  shut  out  the  scene, 
Again  the  drifting  vapors  intervene"  31 

:  The  meadow-brook,  that  seemeth  to  stand  still "  37 

''  After  a  day  of  cloud  and  wind  and  rain 
Sometimes  the  setting  sun  breaks  out  again"  43 


THE  HANGING  OF  THE  CRANE. 


THE  HANGING  OF  THE  CRANE. 
1. 

THE  lights  are  out,  and  gone  are  all  the  guests 
That  thronging  came  with  merriment  and  jests 

To  celebrate  the  Hanging  of  the  Crane 
In  the  new  house,  —  into  the  night  are  gone ; 
But  still  the  fire  upon  the  :hearth  Churns  on, 
And  I  alone  remain.  ,    ,,,„;, 


THE  HANGING  OF  THE  CRANE. 


0  fortunate,  0  happy  day, 
When  a  new  household  finds  its  place 
Among  the  myriad  homes  of  earth, 
Like  a  new  star  just  sprung  to  birth, 
And  rolled  on  its  harmonious  way 
Into  the  boundless  realms  of  space  ! 
So  said  the  guests  in  speech  and  song, 
As  in  the  chimney,  burning  bright, 
We  hung  the  iron  crane  to-night, 
And  merry  was  the  feast  and  long. 


II. 

AND  now  I  sit  and  muse  on  what  may  be, 
And  in  my  vision  see,  or  seem  to  see, 

Through  floating  vapors  interfused  with  light, 
Shapes  indeterminate,  that  gleam  and  fade, 
As  shadows  passing  into  deeper  shade 


Sink  and  elude  the  sight. 


THE  HANGING  OF  THE  CRANE. 

For  two  alone,  there  in  the  hall, 

Is  spread  the  table  round  and  small; 


THE  HANGING  OF  THE  CRANE. 

Upon  the  polished  silver  shine 
The  evening  lamps,  but,  more  divine, 
The  light  of  love  shines  over  all ; 
Of  love,  that  says  not  mine  and  thine, 
But  ours,  for  ours  is  thine  and  mine. 
They  want  no  guests,  to  come  between 
Their  tender  glances  like  a  screen, 
And  tell  them  tales  of  land  and  sea, 
And  whatsoever  may  betide 
The  great,  forgotten  world  outside  ; 
"/They  want  no  guests ;    they  needs  must  be 
Each  other's  own  best  company. 

15 


III. 

THE  picture  fades ;  as  at  a  village  fair 
A  showman's  views,  dissolving  into  air, 

Again  appear  transfigured  on  the  screen, 
So  in  my  fancy  this ;  and  now  once  more, 
In  part  transfigured,  through  the  open  door 
Appears  the  selfsame  scene. 


17 


THE  HANGING  OF  THE  CRANE. 

Seated,  I  see  the  two  again, 

But  not  alone ;  they  entertain 

A  little  angel  unaware, 

With  face  as  round  as  is  the  moon; 


THE  HANGING  OF  THE  CRANE. 

A  royal  guest  with  flaxen  hair, 

Who,  throned  upon  his  lofty  chair, 

Drums  on  the  table  with  his  spoon, 

Then  drops  it  careless  on  the  floor, 

To  grasp  at  things  unseen  before. 

Are  these  celestial  manners?  these 

The  ways  that  win,  the  arts  that  please  ? 

Ah  yes ;  consider  well  the  guest, 

And  whatsoe'er  he  does  seems   best ; 

He  ruleth  by  the  right  divine 

Of  helplessness,  so  lately  born 

In  purple  chambers  of  the  morn, 

As  sovereign  over  thee  and  thine. 

He  speaketh  not;  and  yet  there  lies 

A  conversation  in  his  eyes ; 


THE  HANGING  OF  THE  CRANE. 

The  golden  silence  of  the  Greek, 
The  gravest  wisdom  of  the  wise, 
Not  spoken  in  language,  but  in  looks 
More  legible  than  printed  books, 
As  if  he  could  but  would  not  speak. 
And  now,  O  monarch  absolute, 
Thy  power  is  put  to  proof ;  for,  lo  ! 
Resistless,  fathomless,  and  slow, 
The  nurse  comes  rustling  like  the  sea, 
And  pushes  back  thy  chair  and  thee, 
And  so  good  night  to  King  Canute. 


23 


IV. 

As  one  who  walking  in  a  forest  sees 

A  lovely  landscape  through  the  parted  trees, 

Then  sees  it  not,  for  boughs  that  intervene ; 
Or  as  we  see  the  moon  sometimes  revealed 
Through  drifting  clouds,  and  then  again  concealed, 
So  I  behold  the  scene. 

25 


THE  HANGING  OF  THE  CRANE. 

There  are  two  guests  at  table  now  ; 
The  king,  deposed  and  older  grown, 
No  longer  occupies  the  throne,  - 
The  crown  is  on  his  sister's  brow ; 
A  Princess  from  the  Fairy  Isles, 
The  very  pattern  girl  of  girls, 


All  covered  and  embowered  in  curls, 
Rose-tinted  from  the  Isle  of  Flowers, 
And  sailing  with  soft,  silken  sails 
From  far-off  Dreamland  into  ours. 
Above  their  bowls  with  rims  of  blue 
Four  azure  eyes  of  deeper  hue 

27 


THE  HANGING  OF  THE  CRANE. 

Are  looking,  dreamy  with  delight. 
Limpid  as  planets  that  emerge 
Above  the  ocean's  rounded  verge, 


Soft-shining  through  the  summer  night. 
Steadfast  they  gaze,  yet  nothing  see 
Beyond  the  horizon  of  their  bowls ; 
Nor  care  they  for  the  world  that  rolls 
With  all  its  freight  of  troubled  souls 
Into  the  days  that  are  to  be. 


29 


V. 

AGAIN  the  tossing  boughs  shut  out  the  scene, 
Again  the  drifting  vapors  intervene, 

And  the  moon's  pallid  disk  is  hidden  quite ; 
And  now  I  see  the  table  wider  grown, 
As  round  a  pebble  into  water  thrown 
Dilates  a  ring  of  light. 


THE  HANGING  OF  THE  CRANE. 

I  see  the  table  wider  grown, 

I  see  it  garlanded  with  guests, 

As  if  fair  Ariadne's  Crown 

Out  of  the  sky  had  fallen  down; 

Maidens  within  whose  tender  breasts 

A  thousand  restless  hopes  and  fears, 

Forth  reaching  to  the  coming  years, 

Flutter  awhile,  then  quiet  lie, 

Like  timid  birds  that  fain  would  fly, 

But  do  not  dare  to  leave  their  nests ;  - 

And  youths,  who  in  their  strength  elate 

Challenge  the  van  and  front  of  fate, 

Eager  as  champions  to  be 

In  the  divine  knight-errantry 

Of  youth,  that  travels  sea  and  land 


THE  HANGING  OF  THE  CRANE. 

Seeking  adventures,  or  pursues, 
Through  cities,  and  through  solitudes 
Frequented  by  the  lyric  Muse, 
rrhe  phantom  with  the  beckoning  hand, 
That  still  allures  and  still  eludes. 
O  sweet  illusions  of  the  brain  ! 
0  sudden  thrills  of  fire  and  frost  ! 
The  world  is  bright  while  ye  remain, 
And  dark  and  dead  when  ye  are  lost ! 


35 


i  : ----.;-—  ^:-  P 


VI. 

THE  meadow-brook,  that  seemeth  to  stand  still, 
Quickens  its  current  as  it  nears  the  mill ; 

And  so  the  stream  of  Time  that  lingereth 
In  level  places,  and  so  dull  appears, 
Runs  with  a  swifter  current  as  it  nears 
The  gloomy  mills  of  Death. 

37 


THE  HANGING  OF  THE  CRANE. 

And  now,  like  the  magician's  scroll, 

That  in  the  owner's  keeping  shrinks 

With  every  wish  he  speaks  or  thinks, 

Till  the  last  wish  consumes  the  whole, 

The  table  dwindles,  and  again 

I  see  the  two  alone  remain. 

The  crown  of  stars  is  broken  in  parts 

Its  jewels,  brighter  than  the  clay, 

Have  one  by  one  been  stolen  away 

To  shine  in  other  homes  and  hearts. 

One  is  a  wanderer  now  afar 

In  Ceylon  or  in  Zanzibar, 

Or  sunny  regions  of  Cathay ; 

And  one  is  in  the  boisterous  camp 

Mid  clink  of  arms  and  horses'  tramp, 

S9 


THE  HANGING  OF  THE  CRANE. 

And  battle's  terrible  array. 

I  see  the  patient  mother  read, 

With  aching  heart,  of  wrecks  that  float 

Disabled  on  those  seas  remote, 

Or  of  some  great  heroic  deed 

On  battle-fields,  where  thousands  bleed 

To  lift  one  hero  into  fame. 

Anxious  she  bends  her  graceful  head 

Above  these  chronicles  of  pain, 

And  trembles  with  a  secret  dread 

Lest  there  among  the  drowned  or  slain 

She  find  the  one  beloved  name. 


VII. 

AFTER  a  day  of  cloud  and  wind  and  rain 
Sometimes  the  setting  sun  breaks  out  again, 

And,  touching  all  the  darksome  woods  with  light, 
Smiles  on  the  fields,  until  they  laugh  and  sing, 
Then  like  a  ruby  from  the  horizon's  ring 
Drops  down  into  the  night. 


43 


THE  HANGING  OE  THE  CRANE. 

What  see  I  now?     The  night  is  fair, 

The  storm  of  grief,  the  clouds  of  care, 

The  wind,  the  rain,  have  passed  away ; 

The  lamps  are  lit,  the  fires  burn  bright, 

The  house  is  full  of  life  and  light : 

It  is  the  Golden  Wedding  day. 

The  guests  come  thronging  in  once  more, 

Quick  footsteps  sound  along  the  floor, 

The  trooping  children  crowd  the  stair, 

And  in  and  out  and  everywhere 

Flashes  along  the  corridor 

The  sunshine  of  their  golden  hair. 

On  the  round  table  in  the  hall 

Another  Ariadne's  Crown 

Out  of  the  sky  hath  fallen  down ; 


45 


THE  HANGING  OF  THE  CRANE. 

More  than  one  Monarch  of  the  Moon 
Is  drumming  with  his  silver  spoon ; 
The  light  of  love  shines  over  all. 
O  fortunate,  O  happy  day ! 
The  people  sing,  the  people  say. 
The  ancient  bridegroom  and  the  bride, 
Serenely  smiling  on  the  scene, 
Behold,  well-pleased,  on  every  side 
Their  forms  and  features  multiplied, 
As  the  reflection  of  a  light 
Between  two  burnished  mirrors  gleams, 
Or  lamps  upon  a  bridge  at  night 
Stretch  on  and  on  before  the  sight, 
Till  the  long  vista  endless  seems. 

47 


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